


The Long Road Home

by orphan_account



Category: Fringe
Genre: AU, Angst, Community: femslash12, F/F, Femslash, Implied Sexual Content, Let's Get Astrid Laid, Minor Violence, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Etta spends years searching for her parents but finds Astrid instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Road Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/gifts).



> Fringe is the property of J.J. Abrams and Bad Robot. I'm just having a little fun with his characters.
> 
> This is basically an AU of "Letter of Transit", but contains some "blink and you'll miss it" references to 5x01.
> 
> Thank you so much to aphrodite_mine for the last minute beta. <3

The Long Road Home

Etta can still remember the first girl she ever kissed. She'd been 14, huddling for warmth in a refugee camp, when a pretty brunette she'd met only the day before gently placed her lips on her.

Ever the daring type, Etta had eagerly returned the kiss. The taste of the other girl's lips was surprisingly sweet and intoxicating. Etta leaned in until their tongues entwined.

The next day her new lover was caught stealing food from the loyalists and never seen again. Etta never even knew her name.

It wasn't the first time. Years went by and people drifted in and out of her life. Despite it all, Etta managed to maintain an air of almost unwavering optimism. She had something the others didn't: the memory of her parents, two heroes who never gave up fighting for what they believed in, and a dream of being reunited with them.

…................................................................................................................................................................... ”Remember all those times I said you were _nuts?_ Looks like I was wrong, Go ahead.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” Etta hopped inside to check Rick's latest cargo.

“No, of course not.”

Etta stared at the contents of van in disbelief. “Oh, my god. Where are the others?”

“Two more where I found this girl, two men, one older and one younger. Heat was rising. Couldn't move them all at once.”

“Where?”

“The city inside the old ----”

A gunshot rang out and Etta found herself sprayed with a sticky substance she knew all too well. Rick was down.

….................................................................................................................................................................

“Astrid Farnsworth, graduate of Haverford College with an IBA in music and linguistics. Worked mainly as a research assistant to Dr. Walter Bishop. She would have been 33 at the time of the Fringe team's disappearance in 2016. Congratulations Etta, we've managed to stumble upon the least important member of the team. It's doubtful she knows anything about Walter Bishop's plan.”

“I don't care who she is, Simon. If we can revive her, she can lead us to where the others are.”

Etta stared into the glass-like substance at the woman who lay inside. Her face wasn't at all familiar, but she knew this woman had been a close friend of her parents. But there was something else about this Astrid Farnsworth that filled her stomach with a strange tingling sensation.

“There I've got it”, said Simon. I should have her out in less than an hour.

….................................................................................................................................................................

Simon caught Astrid as she went flying against the wall, an unfortunate byproduct of the device Simon had created to push her away from the amber before the gaseous substance resolidified.

“Astrid Farnsworth, my name is Simon Foster, it's a pleasure to meet you. You've been encased in amber for the last 24 years.”

Despite the shocking news, Astrid only had eyes for Etta. “Olivia?” she whispered, before passing out in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

.….......................................................................................................................................................

“I remember where they are.” Astrid sat on a chair in the far corner of the room, newly revived, and drinking what passed for tea in present day. “Walter, Peter, and I were in one of the warehouses waiting for Olivia to return from one of Walter's assignments. When we realized the Observers had found us, Walter triggered an ambering device. That's the last I remember before I woke up here.”

Astrid may have been speaking to both of them, but she had not taken her eyes off Etta, who for her part couldn't take her eyes off the piece of living history in front of her. She knew now that Astrid was more to her than just a lead to her parents. And what Etta Bishop wanted, she usually got.

“Can you lead us back to this place, Ms. Farnsworth... if we supply you with up to date maps that is?”

Astrid smiled at Simon with a twinkle in her eye. “Yes, and please don't call me Ms. Farnsworth. Waking up to find out I'm 53 is hard enough as it is. I don't need you to make me feel even older.” She appeared to be amused, but Etta could see the sadness and confusion in her eyes.

'She's just as alone and lost as I am,' Etta thought. Forget her earlier impression, Astrid Farnsworth was far more than another pretty face.

…..................................................................................................................................................................

“Are you sure this is the right place, Astrid?” The chamber appeared to be completely empty. “No, I'm sure.” Astrid pointed at a stick of licorice lying on the floor. “This is definitely where we were.”

It took every bit of strength Etta could muster not to curl up on the floor and cry. “The Observers have them. Rick's death tipped them off somehow.”

Slowly and carefully, Etta, Simon, and Astrid made the track back to the resistance cell in Boston. Anil was excited to meet a member of the Fringe team and the entire cell was bursting with questions for Astrid. Despite her rank and young age, Etta easily deterred them, emphasizing Astrid's need for rest and relaxation after spending 20 years in amber.

Once alone, in a makeshift bedroom Anil had hastily arranged for the newly returned hero, Etta finally had a chance to ask Astrid the question she had been longing to ask since Astrid's second revival.

“You look so much like Olivia.”

“Astrid, do you have any idea where my mother could be? Did Walter give any inkling as to where he sent her?”

Astrid sadly shook her head. “Walter kept everyone on a need to know basis, in case we got read by an Observer. All I know is that she was getting him something important, something crucial to our plan to defeat the Observers.”

Etta turned away, not wanting Astrid to see the devastated look on her face. She had been so close to reuniting her family, only to see it her chance slip through her fingers. She was surprised to feel a pair of hands gently turning her so her head rested on Astrid's chest. “It's okay, hon, we'll find them. Your parents and grandfather could fight their way through an entire planet of Observers if they needed too.”

Etta looked up, bringing her face to face with Astrid. Filled with longing, she leaned forward and pulled the older women into a passionate embrace. To her delight Astrid returned the kiss, and for a minute Etta forgot everything, her parents, the resistance, everything but the world of Astrid Farnsworth.

They came up for air, Etta eager to press Astrid against the room's single cot. One look at Astrid's face told her that was not going to happen.

“Etta, I babysat you when you were a child. I changed your diapers for Christ's sake.”

“I'm not a little girl anymore, Astrid. I don't even remember you from before,” Etta pleaded.

Astrid was adamant. “I'm sorry Etta, but this can't happen. We're both in shock. Let's sleep on it and tomorrow this incident will be behind us.”

“Fine,” Etta said. She left the room, doing her best not to stomp away. After the day's events, she could handle one more disappointment.

….................................................................................................................................................................

As the only known survivor of the original Fringe team, a woman out of time, Astrid remained confined to the resistance base. They couldn't risk losing her to the Observers as well.

Not that Astrid stayed idle over the intervening days. She shivered at the stories she heard from Anil, of prisoners kept alive only to serve as test subjects for the Observers' horrid experiments. But there was one glimmer of hope. “One of our operatives managed to tap into the Observer's communication system awhile back. The problem is that we haven't been able to make heads or tails of anything we've come across.” Astrid was all too familiar with the observer's writing, pages after pages of symbols without a hint of repetition. Still, it was their only chance of finding the rest of her team. So, she tried, day after day, running one language algorithm program after another, to crack the code.

Years of FBI training had taught Astrid to shield her emotions, making it easy for her to hide her never ending feelings of loneliness from the rest of the Resistance. She missed Olivia, her closest friend in the FBI and Peter, who had been like a brother to her. Sometimes she even missed Dr. Bishop and his ….eccentricities. It was nice to go around day to day without someone mispronouncing her name or ordering her to do something, but she would have preferred it to the silent respect, bordering on hero worship, that she received from Anil and his team. Etta had been her only link to the past, and she had pushed her away by treating her as if she were still the child Astrid had cared for all those years ago. Etta may have come on too strong and too soon, but the feelings had not been one-sided. This beautiful woman, a perfect combination of two people who mean the world to her, had somehow snuck past Astrid's emotional defenses in less than a day. Sadly, Etta had been polite but distant since their last encounter and Astrid, for her all her genius level expertise, didn't have a clue as to how to patch things up between them.

“So Astrid, did you have any family before the invasion?” Anil asked her over dinner one night.

It was a painful subject Astrid had tried her best not to think about, but she welcomed the opportunity to have a real conversation with another human being. “Peter, Olivia and Walter were my family for most of the last 7 years. My father passed away a year before the Observers came. I had a younger sister Mikaela, she married young and had a daughter, Natasha. They both disappeared, the same way Etta did, in 2016.”

Anid reached across the table and gently patted her hand. “I'm sorry Astrid. That's what we're fighting for. Every one of us has lost someone: a parent, a child, a sibling. Someday we'll get rid of those bald-headed freaks and avenge every one of those we've lost.

Her conversation with Anil ignited a burning curiosity in Astrid that could not be quenched. Over the years, the Fringe database had managed to compile an impressive record of the names and whereabouts of the native population. Their firewalls were tough, but Astrid had broken through worse. After several hours, she had successfully hacked into their database, and started a search for the name Mikaela Farnsworth.

Her heart skipped a beat. Mikaela was alive, living with her daughter and son-in-law just outside of Springfield, Massachusetts.

Astrid lay awake that night, unable to sleep. She had always been the calm and rational member of the Fringe team, not one to let emotions get in the way of essential goals. Still, images of Peter, Olivia, and Walter floated through her head, along with memories of her sister. She and Mikaela had not been close since before Astrid joined the FBI, but she would never forget the baby girl she had loved and cared for after their mother's death. Astrid imagined the rest of her life, cooped up in this hellhole, never seeing her biological or adopted family again, fighting a war they could not possibly win without Walter's plan.

By morning, she had made her decision.

….................................................................................................................................................................

 

“She what???” Etta exclaimed.

“She's gone,” Anil said, “along with a small supply of ammunition and one of our getaway cars. I'm sorry, I never thought she would just take off like this. The security locks on the doors are designed to keep outsiders from getting in, not people from leaving.”

“Was she acting strangely before she left? Maybe the Observers have mastered mind control too,” Etta replied sarcastically.

“Actually, there was one thing. We were talking about families last night and all the people we've lost to the Observers. Then she spent several hours on the computer, I assumed she was working on the Observer code, but maybe there's something else to it.”

“Show me where she was working,” Etta said sternly. One way or another she was going to get Astrid back and when she did, the other women better have a good reason for running out on them like this.

….................................................................................................................................................................

She looked at the child and saw her father. Same eyes, same nose, the same charming smile. “What's your name?” she asked the little girl.

“I'm Whitney, what's your name?”

“Alex,” Astrid replied, using one of Walter's many mispronunciations to her advantage.

“Would you like to play ball with me?  
  


Astrid spent several minutes bouncing the ball back and forth with the little girl, keeping a close eye on the time. This must be Natasha's daughter, Mikaela's granddaughter. Just a couple more minutes and she could return to the resistance in peace.

“Whitney, what have I told you about playing with strangers?” A middle-aged women called to the child from the porch.

“But grandma, we're just playing ball.”

Astrid slowly backed away. As much as she longed to approach Mikaela and take her in her arms, the risk was too great. Unfortunately, Mikaela had already spotted her and was running down the porch steps.

“Astrid, it...it, it can't be. Is that you?”

Slowly, Astrid turned around. The woman walking towards her was older, much older, but it was still Mikaela.

Suddenly, she heard an all too familiar smoosh and felt a pair of strong hands grab her from behind. “Astrid Farnsworth, we have been looking for you. Resistance is futile, come with us.”

Thankfully, twenty years in amber had done nothing to lessen Astrid's skills in defensive combat. She easily managed to wrestle herself free of the Observer's grip, knocking him to the ground.

“Whitney, Mikaela, get inside,” she shouted as she ran to her car.

The Observer materialized again in front of her, but this time Astrid was prepared. She fired her gun at him, taking him out for good. Then she saw a new Observer approaching, and another... and finally a third one. Silently cursing herself for her stupidity, she managed to take out the two nearest her before diving behind the car for cover.

The third Observer, however, was gaining on her rapidly and Astrid was out of bullets. Cursing her streak of luck and bad choices, Astrid struggled to reload her gun, hoping against hope that the bald superhuman wouldn't simply materialize behind her.

A shot came out from the distance and the Observer joined his fallen colleagues on the ground. Astrid looked up to see Etta, gun in hand, looking absolutely furious.

“Come on Astrid, we don't have much time before more of them come.” She gestured in the direction of her own vehicle.

…..................................................................................................................................................................

Etta drove with a speed and lack of tact that reminded Astrid of her grandfather, Walter. (Astrid shuddered in horror at the memory of the day Walter had finally renewed his driver's license... and just as quickly had it revoked again.)

Finally, they reached the outskirts of Boston and Etta pulled to an abrupt stop outside an abandoned row of buildings.

“Astrid, how could you? You almost got yourself captured and your sister killed! And you could have put our entire operation in jeopardy!”

Astrid looked away, not wanting Etta to see the tears falling down her cheeks. “You're right, this has been one of the stupidest things I've ever done in my life. I just...I guess, I wanted was looking for the same thing you are... a family.”

She felt Etta's hands on her chin, gently turning her head in the other woman's direction. “I know you do Astrid, I know.”

Instinctively, they both leaned forward, practically falling into each other's arms. Their kiss was full of need and yearning and everything Astrid had ever dreamed of.

Etta pulled away and smiled at Astrid with a telltale impish grin. “You know, I use the back seat for more than just storing weapons. Want to go for a spin?”

…..................................................................................................................................................................

They spent the night in Etta's apartment, smooshed into Etta's twin bed. “I just got off the phone with Anil,” Etta said as she climbed back under the covers. “The resistance has relocated your sister and her family to a safehouse in Hartford. The Observers won't find them again.”

“Thank you,” Astrid mumbled sleepily.

“We have several different safehouses, we'll be moving them periodically throughout the year.”

Astrid sat up with a start. “That's it! I've been doing this completely wrong.”

“Astrid, what are you-”.

“The Obsevers' language, I'm been looking at it completely wrong. The decryption software has been looking for simple correlations in the Observer notation characters - but these guys don't think like standard humans: each individual character symbol must have many different meanings. If I run multiple programs at once, I might be able to crack their code.”

“Oh my god, you're right!” Etta jumped out of bed and reached for her clothes. “Let's get back to the base. We've got work to do.”

…..................................................................................................................................................................

Etta watched her brilliant lover at work, her face glowing with pride. Astrid looked up and returned her look with a knowing smile.

“How's it going?” Anil asked. He might have less of a personal stake in the rescue of Peter and Walter, but he made up for it in his excitement to see the Observers defeated with Walter's plan.

“Astrid finished translating their transmissions half an hour ago. Peter and Walter are alive, we just need to pinpoint their location.”

“And I've got it,” Astrid chimed in. “They're in New York, where Brooklyn used to be.”

“That place is crawling with Observers, we'll have to muster every operative we can get our hands on, but they're worth it.” It was the first time Etta had ever seen Anil crack a smile.

Astrid stood up and walked over to squeeze Etta's hand. “Come on, let's go get your family back.”

“There's nothing that will stop me from freeing them, but I've already found a family in you.” Etta looked deep into Astrid's eyes, knowing she understood. Family wasn't always about blood; it was also about who you found.

The Beginning

 

 


End file.
